


The darkness reveals the stars

by minutemarch



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: 1976, Canada, Emotional Healing, M/M, Night Terrors, Tourism, Trouble in Toronto, art gallery, day trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutemarch/pseuds/minutemarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Italy comes Canada and James wants to take Niki out for a day away from the grind, another step on the road to healing, but it doesn't all go as well as he'd like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This seems to be part of a loose series revolving around the events between Germany and Japan and general post-crash recovery and adventures. I'm just gonna go with it.

It was two weeks after Monza before James had a day to himself. The team had already made its way to Canada. James liked Canada. It was pretty, everyone was friendly and mooses were cool. The competition was no less intense but the atmosphere outside the track was lighter by far than it was deep in the enemy territory that was Italy. James couldn’t deny, either, his heart was a little lighter after Niki’s slightly wobbly comeback had ended as well as it did. For Niki anyway. James couldn’t be happy about failing to finish but it was hard to gripe when Niki was not only living and breathing but driving like he meant it.

James decided that he’d really have to work now and he had been. Alistair had had very little reason to complain at him and James hadn’t minded that side effect either. In the end it had been easy to claim his reward and head into Toronto to do a little sight seeing. 

He had initially planned to go alone (and not stay such when he got there) and would have had he not seen a familiar figure in the hotel lobby and had a better idea.

Maybe Niki should have been resting but James figured that didn’t mean he would and if the Austrain was getting back on the horse he needed to get back on all the horses. James decided he could help him there.

“Beautiful day!” James said expansively, crossing to where Niki stood looking out of the floor-to-ceiling window.  
“So far,” Niki said. His new cap was pulled down low, his eyes averted from James, those eyes that had changed in the last few weeks, from before. Eyes that had seen too much. James found them much harder to adjust to than the surface scars but he’d never acknowledge that to Niki. He still wondered if his friend noticed them too.

“You escape too, huh?” he asked casually, hands in his pockets.  
“I was thinking of going to the museum. There is an exhibition of 19th Century Realism I wish to see.” Niki actually sounded vaguely engaged in the idea. “But… I’m not sure I have the time,” he added. James wasn’t sure it was just a matter of time. There must have been a thousand things going through Niki’s head. If it had been _his_ face…

“I think you need to have the time. Come on. It’ll be… fun. We can try some of the local food and… colour.”  
Niki looked at James like he’d suggested they just skin the bellhop and wear him as a hat.  
“You want to come to the museum?” he snorted. “You patronise me. I don’t need an escort.”  
 _Sharp bastard._ “I’m not a complete philistine you know. I like art,” James countered.

Niki looked at James doubtfully. “Who is your favourite Realist?” he asked with caution.  
James hesitated to answer and Niki snorted again. “You don’t know any. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have time. There is too much to do.”

James drew his brows together, looked down at his feet and muttered out the side of his mouth. “Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot.”  
Niki looked at James then, a little surprised, maybe even a little impressed. He actually seemed to be weighing things up. “Alright,” he said softly, after a minute. “We will go.” He still sounded reluctant but James understood. Everything was different now. Everybody stared. They’d just better not say anything on James’ watch.

“I’ll call us a cab,” James offered.  
Niki followed James to the curb. “You probably just saw his name in a bus,” he said of Monsieur Corot, his tone sullen. Clearly he’d been turning the thought over and over in his mind.  
James smiled and took the front seat in the taxi. 

~

James paid the cab driver, who’d been friendly and helpful in suggesting places they could go to have fun (mostly the kind of fun James prefered). Niki was silent in the back, resisting James’ attempts to raise his interest in pub crawls and dance clubs.

The walk to the museum was brief, only half a block, but they were stopped twice by fans looking for autographs. James noticed Niki held back, waiting to be asked in his own right. He never refused to sign anything though he didn’t seem to seek out fan contact either. He just accepted it as part of his job. He seemed surprised to be asked about his recovery and assured the asker he was doing well, he was fine. Only James noticed the tension in his friends’ jaw and moved them on quickly.

“I think I left my wallet in the hotel,” Niki said, looking behind him. James huffed, knowing a stalling technique when he saw one.   
“I got it,” he said brightly. “You can get dinner.”  
“I’m not having dinner with you,” Niki said primly.  
“We’ll see what happens,” James shrugged.

Niki waited by the cloak room as James picked up a couple of tickets to the exhibition. “There’s a tour starting in ten minutes if you want to join,” James offered as he handed one of them to Niki who shook his head.  
“I don’t want to be told things. I want to experience this.” He looked up at James, tilting his head. “You can go, if you want to drink. There is a bar.”  
It was James’ turn to shake his head. “I want to be here. In the museum. Let’s do this.”  
Niki sighed and resigned himself to an afternoon of being irritated at best.

~

Niki usually went to art galleries alone, when he went. It was a kind of therapy to him, a place of peace. He did it rarely but when he did he found himself glad for it. Lately he had found peace to be scarce. Being surrounded by quiet and literal artwork had a certain calming effect. He hated frothy and pointless Baroque movement and the even worse Rococo. Abstract art he didn’t consider art at all, he saw no skill or meaning in most of it. Most of what he knew about art he’d learned at school but it was enough to know what he liked and what he liked were things that had straightforward meaning. People doing work. People doing everyday things. Things that mattered more than the florid sweeps of the propagandists. For a while he was content to just wander among it, happy to have the gentle distraction. 

It took him a good while to realise James had been quiet for some time. He’d been so quiet that Niki actually felt the need to go and find him, suspected he may have even moved on altogether, or fallen asleep. He moved through the large room alone, aware of whispers on the edge of his hearing. He frowned and wondered if they were about him. That thought annoyed him, he did not want to be having it. He didn’t want to care about that, devote any time to that worry. It would bring him nothing.

He blocked out the sounds and set his focus on finding his friend with a good deal of irritation. He expected to find James chatting up a tour guide or bouncing a squash ball off the gallery wall or some other nonsense but he was only in the next room, studying a painting. Or at least looking at a painting.

Niki approached him, appearing at his elbow. The painting he’d stopped before was of two men smashing up rocks, one with a pick, one carrying debris in a sieve. There was movement in their limbs and in the colours, there faces were hidden and little was given about them. Any story offered was scant. Niki didn’t know if it had special meaning to James but the way he looked at it suggested to Niki his interest was genuine. He refrained from teasing.

“Do you… wish to go?” Niki said softly. If he was to be honest he was feeling tired but he wasn’t going to say that. He got the distinct feeling he’d walked in on a… moment and had he not felt to stretched he wouldn’t have walked in on it at all. As it was he put his energies into appearing unaffected by fatigue. 

It passed a moment later when James broke eye-contact with the painting, his face switching to a bright smile. “Sure. Let’s get something to eat. The cab driver said there was a place two blocks over that has the best-”  
“I was thinking the hotel,” Niki said, as tense as he had seemed in the hotel lobby. 

“Of course you were,” James dismissed. “But this is a chance to try some local colour. It’s just lunch and I’m hungry. We can go back to the hotel after that, okay?” James looked to plead but they both knew he didn’t need to. He could go where he pleased. Niki knew, though, it wouldn’t count to James unless he went on his terms and today his terms was with Niki.

“Just lunch,” Niki agreed, his expression resigned. He couldn’t argue he wasn’t hungry too.  
~

James decided he was going to lead the expedition. His mood was bright. He felt like talking now that things were going his way and Niki was letting himself go a bit too. It wasn’t easy to divert the Austrian from his routine at times and James always felt a sense of achievement when he managed it.

“When I was here last year I found a place that served pancakes with ice cream and bacon. It sounds awful but it may also be one of the best things I have ever put in my mouth. If I can find that place ag- oh! Through here I think. The place. The place the cab driver meant. Apparently it’s the kind of place the locals go, not one of the tourist traps. Means it’s worth the walk.” 

Niki wasn’t talking much but that didn’t worry James. He was out and about and his mood didn’t seem too bad. Pensive, a little tense, but he was hardly unstable. James had a good feeling about the day, a better feeling than he’d had about Niki since before his accident. To James it was another important step along his friend’s recovery. Small steps (and sometimes a kick in the pants) would do it.

“I don’t think this is right,” Niki said cautiously from behind James. They were trailing down an alley, flanked by white walls sporting various kinds of graffiti, largely unreadable. “No one else is coming this way.”

“Well, no, but this is isn’t the touristy part of town,” James pointed out. “This is the quiet bit we aren’t meant to know about.”  
“We should go back. Stay on the main street.”  
“Where never going to see the authentic city that wa-”

“Your wallet, Prettyboy. And your monkey’s.”  
The voice was harsh, directly behind them. It sounded urgent, commanding. It didn’t invite argument.  
James turned first to catch the glint of sunlight off steal, to see they were outnumbered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Italy comes Canada and James wants to take Niki out for a day away from the grind, another step on the road to healing, but it doesn't all go as well as he'd like.
> 
> Things heat up in this chapter.

James Hunt and Niki Lauda had been on the front pages of many of the worlds newspapers over the last few months, especially the last few weeks, but not everyone knew who they were. Some people didn’t read the paper, watch television, had no interest in racing, or simply couldn’t recognise them out of “uniform”. James was aware there were situations being well known couldn’t get him out of and he sensed very quickly this was one of them. 

He moved to situate himself between Niki and the thugs automatically, his hands raised in a placating gesture. He was going to say something about gentleman and how there was no need for violence. He was going to ignore the insult to Niki if it was going to get him close enough to screw their heads off, if it was going to get them both out of there. He was going to do what he always did in these situations but, before he could speak a single word, he was interrupted by a grunt from over his left shoulder and Niki Lauda surged past him.

His smaller fist were already up, melted skin pulled tight across the backs of his hands. His lip was curled in derision, his pace was deliberate, swift, his forward momentum giving him an edge as his knuckles made contact with the speaker’s jaw. A second blade came up as the first went down but that one didn’t last any longer, his arm splintered between Niki’s hands and his knee. The third hesitated, glancing down at his fallen comrades, and James could see he was going to run but he never got the chance as Niki swung him into the wall with a feral cry. The smack of brick on bone went straight to James’ stomach. 

Niki was already stalking back up the alley way, over the bodies of their would-be assailants. His shoulders were tensed, his hands still balled. He looked livid. James trotted past the small cluster of fallen and after his friend, still amazing and a little baffled by what he’d seen. Where did Niki learn how to fight?

Even trotting James had to push himself to catch up without the advantage of anger to fuel his pace. He noticed Niki’s hand go to his ribs as he hurried for the mouth of the alley.

“Wait up! Niki. God,” he breathed.   
“I’m going back to the hotel!” Niki snapped, his voice made sharp by barely-contained fear and adrenaline.  
“I’m sorry,” Hunt called after him. Niki didn’t turn back or slow. James was pretty sure Niki meant alone and he wasn’t going to hurl himself at his friend now. He’d let him cool off, come down, but he still watched him until he called down a cab and got in, just to make sure he got there safely.  
Just in case he had no more wham in the tank.

~

James hadn’t gone right back to the hotel. He hadn’t gone to the cafe he’d been trying to find either. He stayed to the main street, looking over his shoulder but saw no sign of their armed bandits. He expected they’d be laying low for a while.

He was impressed with Niki, beyond words, but he’d also been scared, a little of him, mostly for him. He’d never seen such raw anger in the measured young man and he couldn’t help but tie it into recent events. Stuff like that had the power to change you. How much had it change Niki? How much was considered, how much was slipping control? 

James bought a sandwich and a coke and caught a cab back to the hotel.

~

James didn’t bother with trying to convince Niki to let him in, he simply used the connecting door to let himself into Niki’s room. The light was off and the curtains pulled closed. There was a sour smell in the air and James knew it well. He’d likely thrown up more than everyone else in the hotel combined.

James moved along the wall carefully, into Niki’s line of sight. His friend lay on the bed, on his back, one of his legs bent, the other straight. His left hand lay over his chest, the right by his side, shaking gently as a little blood oozed onto the sheets. James shook his head. Niki’s eyes stared straight ahead, his slow blinking the only other sign of life.

“You were pretty good back there, you know,” James pointed out, taking a step closer to the bed. “Saved our arses.”  
Niki didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge James in any way but James was in no doubt Niki heard him.  
“I didn’t know that was going to happen. You know that, right? I wasn’t trying to make a point. Just wanted-” It was James’ turn to fail to find the words. He didn’t know how to saw what he wanted without sounding like an idiot and annoying Niki further. _Just wanted you to feel… normal._

Niki turned his head then, looked at James like he’d never seen him before, like he had no idea who he was. Then he blinked his eyes slowly focused. That turned out to be no less unsettling. There were no words, just a slack-jawed staring. James took another step towards the bed. He didn’t know what to say. That wasn’t an excuse not to try. “I wanted to thank you. Those jerks didn’t stand a chance.” James didn’t ask him where he learned to fight. He suspect that could be a contentious topic and, right now, that didn’t even matter. 

Very carefully James sat on the bed.

“I was thinking we could call for pizza, see what’s on the tube,” he suggested.   
Niki swallowed. “That wasn’t your original plan,” he scratched out, accent heavy.”  
“Plans change,” James shrugged.   
Niki snorted. “Don’t patronise me.”  
“Well you’re a git and that’s what you do with gits,” James said, the old twinkle in his eye (that had, coincidentally, returned with Niki’s voice.)  
Niki stared at him openly for that, a glare but this time with a little life in it. James would swear under oath he saw the merest hint of a smile.  
“Schmerzen am arsch,” he muttered, which James was damn sure was an insult.

James took that as his cue to settle beside his friend on the bed and drag the viewing guide into his lap. There was a lot going on with Niki and James knew it wasn’t his job to fix it all but he could play his part, he could give his friend the kick, the charge, the irritation he needed to pull himself up when he stumbled. They both understood a stumble was okay so long as you didn’t stay down there.

James settled lower on the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Niki. He looked him in the eye as he asked, “On a scale of 1 to 10 how scary is the bathroom.”  
Niki met James’ gaze, steadier now. “France,” he said with a grim nod.

“Well shit,” James said. “We’re going to need to tip room service the GPD of a small country.”  
“I believe it’s your turn to tip,” Niki said with a small, crooked, grin.  
“Great. But the pizza is on you. How do you feel about pineapple?”

~

Niki had eaten his fill of pizza and fallen into a deep sleep long before darkness fell. James, relaxed and warm, saw no reason to move. He barely had the presence of mind to push the pizza boxes onto the floor before he was asleep too.

~

At 3am there was a bang.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Italy comes Canada and James wants to take Niki out for a day away from the grind, another step on the road to healing, but it doesn't all go as well as he'd like.
> 
> Back at the hotel things get intense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of German. Translations are in text. Couldn't resist. I love it when Niki speaks German. I hope it is making sense.

James was woken by a sharp sound. Adrenaline brought him upright faster than his sleep-addled body had any right to manage. His attention turned quickly to the bed beside him. It was empty.

He turned his attention to the end of the room and the saw light spill from under the bathroom door. He relaxed a little. Niki had just got up to use the bathroom. James lay back on the bed again, feeling only the ghost of tension in his belly. He’d closed his eyes before the sound came again. A sharp bang, a scraping. A muffled shout. They weren’t the sounds of taking a leak. 

“Niki?” James slipped out of the bed and padded towards the bathroom. He stepped over Niki’s jacket as he went.  
“Are you okay in there?” There was no answer. James pressed his ear to the door and heard the scraping again and low words he couldn’t make out. Who was Niki talking to?  
“Niki? I’m coming in, okay?”  
He had no idea what he was going to see but if it was something he wasn’t needed for he could turn right around.

James pushed open the door.

 _Oh, God._  
Niki sat on his bare feet, his face to the opposite wall. His hands were pressed to the tiles, picking at them, clawing at them. He seemed unhearing, blind. He was moving but James wasn’t even sure he was awake.  
“Gehst du hinaus!” _Get out!_  
“Hol mich hier raus!” _Get me out of here!_  
His shouts were raw, his voice cracking. James cast an eye to the right and swore at the mess. What the hell had Niki been eating? He shook his head. He couldn’t worry about that now.

“Niki.” James dropped down behind him, took his shoulders, tried to pull him away from the wall.  
“Feuer! Lass uns das Feuer!” _Fire! There is a fire!_  
“Es brennt.” _It burns._

“I don’t understand what you are saying,” James said, pulling Niki gently away from the tiles his fingers. _Is that fire? It sounds like fire._  
“There’s no fire Niki.” _God._ “There’s no Feuer. Nein Feuer. Nein Feuer, Niki.”  
James hoped Niki could forgive him for mangling his language as he hoped what he was saying was what he wanted to be saying, what Niki needed to hear.

James pulled Niki into his arms, into his lap, wrapping his arms around him, holding him close. He was still dazed, fingers still extended. James just worked around his friend’s rigid pose, rocking them both automatically.  
“Es brennt,” Niki says, his voice softer, distant, his eyes glazed.  
“No, Niki,” James countered softly, his voice as steady as he could make it. “Nein Feuer. Nein…. brennt. Nein brennt, Niki.” What was he saying? Would it make any sense to anyone? Niki seemed to be calming but James didn't know if it was from his efforts or if he was just wearing down.

Niki's voice turned soft and tired. “Nicht sagen, James.” _Don’t tell, James._  
“I’m here, Niki. I’m here,” James said, misunderstanding. “Shhh. I’ve got you.”

“Nicht sagan.”

Niki closed his eyes, went limp. James held him, bent up on the floor, for a minute longer before rising, lifting Niki with him. He carried him into the next room, laid him out on the bed. Rolling him gently into his side and climbing in beside him. This time he wrapped his arms around him, held him close because he didn't know what else to do. At least if Niki went for any more nocturnal walks, James would know about it. In the morning they'd need to talk about this. For now all James could do was run the conversation over and over in his head and try to understand what he'd seen, what it meant. He thought he had a pretty good idea.

As he was falling asleep he kept his eyes on Niki’s damaged face, half covered by his now familiar dressings. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he brushed a thumb over his sleeping friend’s face. “I’m sorry.” His last thought, before he drifted off, was if this was going to keep happening he was going to need to learn German.

~

At 7 am there was a knock at the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head when the guys talk about the events of the night before, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end for this little thingy. I expect there will be more stuff between this point and the end of the season though. <3

Niki woke at a knock on the door and to the weight of James Hunt’s arm draped over him. In a moment of shock he looked down but they were both fully dressed. He just had no memory to explain their proximity. Just pizza and movies and it looked like that was as far as he went. He could deal with that. It was weird but James was probably just too far gone to know what he was really doing. Typical.

James was still sleeping soundly and the knocking was irritating so he decided to deal with it himself. He pushed James’ arm away, none too gently, and rolled out of bed, realising after a moment, the knocking was coming from the adjoining room. As he crossed the floor Niki looked down at his hands. His fingertips were strangely sensitive, his short nails torn in places. Did he do that in the fight?

Shaking off that line of enquiry he pulled open the door to the surprised blinking of Alastair Caldwell.  
“Oh. Niki. Um… I thought… did you swap rooms?”  
“No. James is still in bed.”  
The New Zealander looked like he had no idea what to say, like he was trying various beginnings and dismissing them all. Finally he settled on the achingly safe, “Tell him he’s late for the track.” Niki watched the man retreat, head cocked to one side, not quite walking in a straight line as if too distracted to correct his path.

Closing the door with a shrug and headed back to his bed and his rival within it. He picked up his pillow and smacked James over the head with it, answering the surprised snorting with, “Get up. Your manager thinks we’re fucking.”

~

James dressed quickly enough but he wasn’t really awake. He stumbled away from his closet, rubbing his eyes. He’d not had a great night’s sleep, as it had turned out, waking often, everytime Niki shifted. He kept glancing at his friend when he was in sight without making it obvious. It was strange how composed the Austrian was in the daylight. He was acting like his old self, like yesterday hadn’t happened at all while James was still shuddering at the memory. It made him feel strangely alone.

Niki wandered into his room, looking freshly pressed and composed. He’d found his hat and his jacket and was carrying a mug. He shoved it onto James’ hands. “You look like shit.” Coffee. Acrid and black. Niki padded away again, back into his own room. James didn’t mind that Niki treated his space as an extension of his own. It was a good sign, wasn’t it? That he was so relaxed? Or was it a sign things were worse than he thought?

James followed Niki, sipping his coffee and screwing up his face at the burn. _Do you remember_ “You sleep okay last night?” he asked casually.  
“Fine, yes,” Niki answered quickly. “I need to get to work. You need to get to work. Finish your coffee.”  
Niki was busily folding his clothes, tidying the disheveled room. Creating order where he could.  
James nodded and wandered back to his own room. He supposed it wouldn’t be a great idea to keep Alistair waiting even longer. He threw back the coffee and headed down to the track alone.

~

James threw himself into his work. The first few laps he did at race speed, needed to work things out of his system. The car danced and screamed until it filled his mind with the sounds of pistons and afterburn and the shake of its own frame as it rattled around the track. He fussed over every aspect of his ride with needle-like attention, drawing looks from his mechanics and his manager (who was looking at him very strangely indeed), unsure if they should be worried or relieved he was taking everything so seriously despite looking like he hadn’t slept in a week.

It wasn’t the first time James had had to explain himself after a night out but it was the first time he’d had to swear he hadn’t slept with a fellow driver. In the end he wasn’t sure he’d convinced Alastair of anything aside from the fact his mind was on the job for all the wrong reasons but he wasn’t going to talk about what happened with anyone else. He could hardly imagine a worse betrayal of trust. 

He inflicted his team with his hyper-attentive presence for the better part of the day, eating his quick lunch in his own own pit and speaking only sparsely with the drivers working nearby (which was probably as well for them). In the end it was Alastair who sent him away, telling him the mechanics needed the car and that James needed “a cold shower and a fucking cup of tea.” He didn’t argue.

~

He ended up going for a warm shower and a cup of coffee. He dressed in his best evening casual and combed out his hair. Feeling a little closer to human he headed down to the hotel bistro with a craving for a large steak and he wasn’t disappointed. He liked Canadian food. He found himself glancing around for Niki as he ate but he didn’t really expect to see him. He’d be working on his car and good thing too. A little normality would be good for him.

A little while later James decided it would be good for him too, taking a girl he’d met at the hotel bar up to his room and locking the door that connected to Niki’s.

~

Five hours later he saw the girl, an American on holiday, back to her room downstairs (mostly in case he wished to find her later. She’d been fun.) Returning to his room via the fire escape he finally opened up the conjoining door to find Niki sitting on his bed, reading a magazine. Not one of the fun variety, James noticed. Niki looked up at James, his lip curling a little. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be sleeping? You’ve been working very hard.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. 

James hid the fact he was horrified Niki had been _listening_ , or at least aware of what he was doing, with his usual swagger. “Nah. That was me just warming up. Not even close to my lap record.”

“If you say the words _pole position_ I will push you out the window,” Niki responded tightly.  
“You’re very sassy tonight. Good day at work?” James asked, hands in his pockets, a vision of casual disconcern.  
“It was productive,” Niki shrugged, guarding his professional secrets. His voice, his manner, was about as relaxed as it ever got, sober.

“Not what I wanted to hear,” James joked.  
“You were productive too,” Niki pointed out, eyes bright.  
“Well I did find a nice steak,” the Brit confessed wistfully. Heartened by the openness of Niki’s face he took it as a tacit invite and settled on the end of the bed. 

“Midnight snack?” James suggested.  
“I’m not hungry.”  
“We could play poker.” James fished in his pocket for a deck of cards.  
“We could sleep,” Niki countered.  
“Is that an invitation?”  
“Do you need one?” Niki’s tone was matter-of-fact.

James cocked his head thoughtfully, looked down at Niki’s hands, pale against his dark blue pajamas aside from the red specks of recent damage. He felt his moment had come, to raise certain things with Niki.

“How did you sleep last night?” James asked, his tone deceptively light.  
“I already answered you,” Niki said dismissively.  
“You did,” James conceded. Then added. “I never thanked you for that.” He gestured towards Niki’s hands, meaning the fight.  
“They were annoying me,” the Austrian shrugged.  
“How are your hands?”  
“They’re fine,” Niki didn’t bother looking up from his magazine.  
“You did a number on your fingernails,” James said casually.  
Niki looked up then. “I did a what?”  
“A number. You really messed them up.”

Niki looked at James for a moment, eyes narrowing. “That thing you’re not saying. You should say it.”  
James sighed. The Austrian was too clever by half. He had no idea how Niki was going to react but he had to tell him and he knew how.  
He spoke slowly, his accent abysmal, his tone level, careful. Reluctant. “Hol mich hier raus. Lass uns das Feuer. Es brennt.”

Niki glared at him then, his eyes widening.  
“I don’t know what it means but I think I know what it was about,” James clarified.

“Where did you hear those words?” Niki said, his full attention on James now.  
James swallowed. “Last night. In your bathroom. Niki… ”  
Niki’s answer was fast, cutting off James at the pass seamlessly.

“James. It’s not for you to worry about. It is for me. You have your part. You play your part well. I… need you to play your part.” James opened his mouth to speak but Niki reached out to place his hand on his friend’s in a rare show of camaraderie.  
“I was hoping it wouldn’t happen again,” he said softly. “Here. I know you. You will try and fix this. You will say ‘it’s my problem. I made him race.’ It’s okay. This is a part of it. I don’t mind it. Those things can only scare you for a moment and they are gone, you wake up and there is no fire. There is no fire, James.” His voice softened. “Everyday I say that to myself. There is no fire. Things tick on. We tick on.”

Niki withdrew his hand and tilted his head. “If you would like we can play cards. We will play for breakfast. If I win we will eat what I choose. If you win you choose.”  
It was strange to hear his desperate assurances to Niki turned back on him with such calmness. ‘ _Nein Feuer._ ’ But Niki’s words had also been reassuring not because they marked an end to Niki’s fear or the scars of his crash but because they marked out his strength and perspective, far more powerful weapons than James’ fumblings, he was sure, but he had his part and by God he was going to play it.

James started shuffling the cards he’d brought with him. Niki put his magazine to one side and awaited his hand.

By 2 am they fallen into a dreamless sleep on the same bed and so remained till morning.

**Author's Note:**

> The painting that catches James' eye is "Stone breakers" by Courbet


End file.
